Moon Children
by Ankle Deep
Summary: My first fiction. When six girls discover a mysterious book and the world that comes with it, their lives begin to change in more ways than one. Full summary inside - please take the time to review!
1. Prologue

**Moon Children**

**Hi everyone, this is a book of mine, one of the first that I started writing about a year ago, but put on hiatus when I discovered the world of fanfiction. Its of my own invention, but more of a mix of than anything else, but I didn't know where to put it so ... Please treat it with love, it is my first and longest yet. Review!**

_**It is for us to pray not for tasks equal to our powers, but for powers equal to our tasks, to go forward with a great desire forever beating at the door of our hearts as we travel toward our distant goal.  
-Helen Keller**_

**I would like to dedicate this fiction to my parents and family, and the characters on which this book is based. You know who you are.**

_**Prologue:**_

_Morning is a time of awakening, when all the inhabitants of the world get up to face a new day. So naturally, it is a beautiful thing. The sun laboriously climbs its way up the sky, its peach and golden rays staining the world below the colour of ripe fruit, and the crisp morning air is so sharp and bitingly cold you could cut your finger on it. It is simultaneously invigorating and peaceful, and the animals of the forest slowly awaken from sleep to find this beautiful spectacle to await them. _

_As the forest slowly stirs and comes to life, one lone wolf watches it all, its white pelt stained golden from the rising sun. It crouches, unnoticed, in the last remaining patch of night, waiting, just waiting. Then, fast enough that if you blinked you would miss it, the wolf leaps into the light, and for a moment it seems that its ice blue eyes are also golden. It stands, head erect, on the cliff face, overseeing its kingdom in all its glory. It almost looks proud, if a canine face can show such emotion, but then, in another lighting movement, it scampers away, leaving only a single snow white hair as proof it had ever been there at all._


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One:**

Beep. Beep. Beeeeep. _Damn. _My bleary eyes opened slowly, shocked by the amount of light in my bedroom. I was in a hazy stupor, still half living in that strange dream about the wolf. It was only strange because it felt like I was the wolf, but it didn't really matter in the scheme of things. I always had weird dreams, didn't I? It was shaping up to be beautiful morning but even so, why did my infernal alarm clock decide to go off today, of all days? I was already getting less and less sleep each night, mostly due to – "Rosa! Rise and shine sleepyhead, its exam day today! And the day after and after and after as well!" – that. My mother was starting the morning wakeup routine, which usually includes yelling at the top of her voice to wake everyone in the house up simultaneously. "Coming Mum..." I called, my voice cracking from lack of sleep. I had been studying non-stop for my various maths and other tests, and I was up at six o'clock just to cram a bit more in, and trust me, I needed all the help I could get.

"Come on Rosa, I know you're ignoring me, so get up and get out here. Breakfasts ready." _Oh yippee,_ I thought, _just what I need: some nice cold porridge to wash down my extreme anxiety. _Mum was ... not the most normal of mother figures, but that was alright with me.

She was going through a phase where she ate nothing for breakfast but porridge, and seeing as it was high summer it would be impractical to serve it anything but cold. Yet, it had to be done, so I heaved myself out of bed, stumbling around drunkenly searching for my school uniform, tripping over various items of clothing that had misplaced themselves on my floor, as I passed. Eventually I got my uniform on and, looking less like a sleepwalking zombie and more like a living, breathing, thirteen year old, made my way across our long corridor to the kitchen. Shoving down my porridge (which promptly settled like a brick in my stomach) and cramming in some last minute geography study I rushed off to school in my dad's car on his way to work, as I had slept in too long to catch the bus like I usually do. On the way to school we talked about more study and then finally, I was there.

Bramble Oaks Intermediate High School, or BOH, as the students call it, was a selective high school that you had to sit a test to get into. In most ways it was exactly like any other high school, except that you had to be a little bit smarter than most to get by. It was a medieval castle of a place, with towering spires, vines and rusty old gates. When I arrived I saw among the streams of people flooding through the gates there were my friends. When I had moved to high school from primary, I hardly knew anyone except a couple of randoms from my old school and a tallish, auburn haired girl named Alexa, who was often obsessed with certain things at a time. Today it was dragons and she was roaring ferociously at anyone that came near. Since then I had made many new friends and they came to meet me at the gate as follows:

The first was a girl from Syria named Katherine, who was pale and pretty, with hair the colour of chocolate. She always seemed to me a bit conscious of everything she did, and she was very nice. She moved in for a hug, saying 'Hi Rosa!" into my shoulder. Next came Jade, the opposite of Katherine, a vivacious, olive skinned girl with black-brown hair. She always did very well in tests, and she went up to me brandishing a handful of study notes she had probably typed up last night. "Well, have you studied?" she asked me, giving me one of those stares that made you want to give a person the absolute truth. "Ummm… yeah?" I answered. "That's good," Jade said, "because guess who didn't?"

I pondered for a moment until a voice from the back of the group called, "I didn't!" Cassandra, Cassie for short, had said this, and by the look of it she wasn't panicking about it. Cass was a girl who took hardly anything seriously, but still did pretty well at school. She was pale and freckled, with a face that proclaimed that she had spent most of her life laughing. There then came a quiet giggle from my left. Sara was standing there, stifling her laughter at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. Sara seemed to me to be a quiet person at first, but once you got to know her you would think otherwise. She had dark, honey-blonde hair and dark blue eyes, a darker version of my ice blue eyes and white-blonde hair, and was capable of being very hyper when she wanted to be. She had a knack for saying things exactly as they are, and exactly what everyone else is thinking.

After a bit of last-minute study and overall stressing about the tests, the bell rang and we filed into English class for our first test. It was writing so I wasn't overly worried, but even still, the first test of any exam period is daunting, and this was no exception. As the English teacher set the timer for our writing task, my stomach was alive with nerves, as though it was being invaded by hordes of insane butterflies. I wrote feverishly on the year 7 stimuli –a dark forest –as the clock ticked inexorably toward the finish. I created the story of a girl called May who was lost in a dark forest with no escape, which was fairly typical but all I could think of under the circumstances. Just as I was writing the last couple of sentences, where May finds out she's the long lost daughter of the reigning monarch, the timer went off and we were told by our teacher to put our pens down. I just hoped I did well.

After the test Katharine, Jade, Alexa, Sara, Cass and I all talked about our various responses to the stimulus (I was glad to find out none were like mine) and then ate recess together before proceeding to the next class, and the next test. And so it continued throughout the day, my group chatting together throughout. I walked home with Alexa and we talked about books we were reading lately, and I recommended one I had read that was really good. It turned out to be one of those perfectly normal days, just like any Friday afternoon I'd ever had, but little did I know, it was the last truly normal day I was going to have in a long, long time.


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: Yeah, I know it's not that good, but it gets better in the later chapters. Cut me some slack people! Review to at least tell me how to improve! And it does get better every chapter – it's more of a record of my ability. Read: none.**

**Chapter Two:**

The book called Moon Children was one that I had found when scanning a garage sale with Dad on Saturday. He liked the old antiques that had maybe once been family heirlooms and the such, and he often said that these things "had a century of memories behind them". I just felt sad that the person selling had to give all these away, especially if all they wanted to do was move house, which is what this old lady wanted to do. Mrs Bennet had been in our neighbourhood for as long as I could remember, and had always taken a special interest in me.

She wasn't exactly normal most of the time, she loved to catch people on the street and whisper to them about vampires and witches, and techniques to ward them off, and sometimes she would give me this weird, piercing stare as though I was from another planet, and she was often caught muttering strange words under her breath. This unnerved me often, and when I discovered that she was moving away, I at first thought it might be because of me, and was even a bit glad. I instantly berated myself for that thought. What had I ever done to poor old Mrs Bennet anyway? Nothing I was sure, but even so I still couldn't wipe away that little smudge of guilt that I in some way might have been the cause of her departure.

While Dad was exchanging childhood memories with Mrs. Bennet, I took the chance to peruse the aisles of dusty shelves, and browsed through the aged books and little porcelain artefacts. Was there nothing of Mrs. Bennet's that was new? I kept on though, in the hope that I might find something that was worth keeping. And then, nestled in between two large, hulking botany books, I saw it. It seem to be almost part of the shelf on which it sat, the rich mahogany of the colour blended in exactly with the wood on the shelf. The book hung back in the shadows, as though it had never been picked up and was anxious about being read. As my curious hand reached for it, it seemed to shrink further out of my reach – but of course that was impossible – until finally I grabbed it. As I laid my fingers on the weathered old leather cover, I felt run through me the strangest electric current, as though someone had hooked my fingers up to the power socket and flicked the switch, and a cold shiver went down my spine.

I knew at once, without even reading the title, that I would come to own this book. It's just a power they have over you that you can know without reading it which book is for you and when you find it, you must have it, no matter what. It was like that for me, and when I read the title, _Moon Children_, it sent another bout of convulsive shivers down my back. I went to the counter with this book in my hands, and asked if that book hadn't been reserved.

The girl at the counter was 15, and she looked down at me cheerily enough, and said that no, the book was mine for just 10 dollars. So I payed with the little pocked money I had, and went over to my father to show him my prize. When I saw Mrs. Bennet and showed her my book, she gave me one of her strangest stares, then, seeing the title of the book I was holding, went a white as a sheet. She muttered to herself, "Not my fault. Not my fault if I tried to warn her away, I knew she would get it in the end, tried my best, not my fault".

When I looked quizzically at her, having heard everything she said, she gave a quick goodbye to my father and rushed away, muttering unprintable obscenities that were quite unfit for a lady of her age. "Well, said my Dad resignedly, "I guess that's our cue to leave. Come on Rose, get in the car and we'll get home so you can tell Mum all that's happened. I know your dying to." He was right on that score. I was eager to get home and show her my latest find, but even more eager to discover the strange allure of Moon Children. The title gave away nothing, and I was raving to lock myself into my room and study it further.

Unfortunately, it was Sunday before I got to really have a good look at the book. I was assigned little tasks for the rest of Saturday afternoon, penance for escaping morning chores to go to the garage sale with Dad. I also had to keep studying for my various tests, as every second I wasn't studying was a second later that I couldn't discover the secret of Moon Children. I kept sneaking little glances at it out of the corner of my eye, and now I could see it for real. I was excited, all right.

As I shut myself in the enclosed comfort of my room, a familiar sense of security washed over me. My room had always been one of the few places I felt truly safe. When I was little it was a place to snuggle into bed at night, safe in the knowledge that my teddy was there and the nightmares would stay away. As I had gotten older its role has changed, becoming more of a refuge from the chaos of the rest of the house that my disorganised mother had never quite got around to organising, whereas my room, with its bare white walls and pale blue bed sheets remained clean, the only exception being in the times of extreme rest and relaxation. I always seemed to have time for cleaning when I was really stressed.

As I lay on the navy blue sea of carpet, I scrutinised my new curiosity, trying to pick out a flaw in the delicate brass clasp, or a new pattern in the worn leather. I blew the dust off the top of the book, like they do in those corny movies when the main character has just discovered a priceless relic of some sort. It was highly unlikely that this old book was worth anything, but that didn't matter to me. It was the symbol that interested me the most. It was the fine, polished white of willow-wood, or maybe bone (who's bone? I thought and shuddered) and its spherical form stood out from the dark brown cover.

Engraved in it was the symbol, what looked like a circle with lines shooting out, like echo lines off a full moon. _That must be what the_ _book is about,_ I thought_, after all, it is called Moon Children. _I ran my fingers slowly over the front, tracing the symbol over and over, wondering what it could possibly mean. I hesitantly lifted the cover, almost afraid what might lie inside the old pages with the cryptic runes. I gripped the leather with my finger tips, slipped the clasp and pulled. The cover stuck as though it had been wedged together with glue but as I pulled the thick layer of must the pages came away with an ominous ripping sound. I was left with what seemed to be half a book, but all the important bits were intact. With a deep feeling of expectation, I flipped to the title page and gasped in wonder.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three:**

The title page of Moon Children was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Like the rest of the book, it looked as if it came from somewhere in the tenth century, but it held such an intricate beauty that you couldn't look at it for any long period of time without getting lost in the many detailed ink pictures that adorned the borders. There was only the title there; decorated with full moons and what appeared to be strange wolf-people, with tails, ears and crazed, staring eyes. These miniature ink people freaked me out a bit, but even so I could not take my eyes away from the complex drawings. It looked as though the longer I stared, the more realistic and lifelike the figures seemed. They seemed almost to move, going about their daily businesses hunting and running through their drawn up forest, oblivious to the young teenage girl watching their every move.

But of course they weren't actually _moving_, it was just my imagination again, surely. I wrenched my eyes away and instantly felt as though I had woken from a sleep, awake and refreshed. With new vigour, I turned to the place where the first chapter would be, eagerly await the next new surprise. _It's almost as though there's a spell on the book, _I marvelled. _The lack of author and inconspicuous cover makes it blend in, like a spell of invisibility, but when you open the cover the spell goes away and you have to keep reading, no matter what. _I kept looking and flipping through the pages.

I looked at the borders of the pages, finding that every header and footer was decorated with the same mesmerising ink drawings, all different. On one page, a wolf man and woman were hunting prey deep in the forest, their hands and tails entwined in love. They ran as fast as the falcons above them were flying, and yet their attention was only on each other. On another page, children played in the bracken under the watchful eye of some elders. They tumbled over and over in the grass, play fighting and sweeping their dappled tails around in glee. The elders seemed to enjoy the children's laughter and their ears and tails almost twitched with happiness.

For the second time that day, I felt as though my life wouldn't have been wasted if I sat and watched them forever. _Wait, _I thought, stopping in my tracks. _It's the spell working on me again. How am I going to read the words if all I can do is look at the pictures? _With that thought urging me on, I tore my eyes away from the lives of the wolf people and flipped to the front of the book to begin chapter one. Excitement rose slowly inside me, like a balloon filled with helium, ever rising. I was eager to find out what the book had been keeping from me that I nearly ripped a page off, but finally I would find out, and that was all that mattered. I stared hard at the page where chapter one was.

But there was nothing there, only blankness where the words should be. I blinked, disbelieving. What had happened? Where were the words? _Nothing has happened, silly, _I chastised myself; _I was just too distracted by the pretty pictures to notice that there were no words to go with them. Typical. _My helium filled balloon burst abruptly, leaving only tatters of the former enthusiasm. I had thought that the illustrations were there to stop people seeing what secrets lay in the pages but I was wrong. There was nothing there, and my excitement had been for nothing. A deep disappointment sank in the pit of my stomach, and I closed the book, coughing as a cloud of dust rose from the pages.

_Well, that was a failure._ As the realisation that it was all wasted came to me in full force – for of course I couldn't look at the pictures now, I would be stuck for good – anger washed over me like a wave. I had gotten so hyped up, all for what? To be disappointed yet again. It felt like my life story, this endless rollercoaster of highs and lows, excitement and frustration. I wanted to hit the book that had caused this, to make sure it couldn't hurt anyone again. It was a needless overreaction and completely irrational, I knew, but I couldn't stop myself. I raised my fist above the symbol on the cover, the symbol I had puzzled over, and brought it down with a mighty _thump_.

The symbol took the blow, sinking into the cover and emitting an ominous clicking sound from somewhere deep inside. I withdrew my hand, startled and ashamed of my unintentional vandalism. What if the symbol never came out? That wasn't the way to treat priceless books, even if they had no words in them. I prised my finger into the gap where the symbol had been and waggled it around; trying to worm it out of the gap and into its rightful place, but it wouldn't budge.

Keeping my temper, I tried to do it again, and then finally banged it as hard as I could. My twisted logic was that maybe if it came in that way, it would go out that way too. Strangely enough, it worked, and the symbol flew out of the cover, trailing something long and black behind it. I caught it in midair as I sped past me, and saw that the once symbol was now a necklace, and a black cord had attached itself to the end.

The full moon and echo lines engraved in the bone shone with an inner ambience in the pale afternoon light and I felt a strange urge to hug the necklace, if that was possible. Acting on impulse, I undid the latch on the cord and slid it over my head and around my neck. It felt right there, as if it had been there all my life. The place where the necklace had been was still an ugly hole in the leather of the book, but at least I knew that I would always have a part of the book with me now, and that lessened the shame.

I turned to the flipside of the symbol and saw a single word engraved in the bone. It was done immaculately, like the rest of the book, in fancy curlicues and running writing but was still legible. _Echo_ it read, like a strange proclamation to the century in which it belonged. The word echoed around my mind, and I wondered what it could possibly mean. Echo, echo, echo. . . . A slowly fading promise of greater things to come.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four:**

After all the craziness that had happened the day before, it was even harder to get up in the morning than it usually was for me. I groggily opened my eyes and stared around my room. Nothing had changed since yesterday, but it felt different. The strange occurrence that had taken place the day before seemed to have altered it completely, turning my refuge into somewhere unknown. What was that book? Definitely not normal, but then again what is normal anyway? I pondered this for a few minutes, then came to the decision that I would have to get up and go to school whether the book was abnormal or not. I could show the necklace and the book to my friends and get their opinions on it. I was sure Cassie at least would have something to say about it, even though that thing may not be particularly helpful. With that thought in my head I heaved myself out of my bed and set off in the general direction of the kitchen.

Mum was waiting for me, a plate of eggs in her hand. "What? No cold porridge?" I queried. "Of course not, darling. It's the big day, remember?" At my look of utter confusion, she explained in a resigned voice. "Its Mufti Day, Rosa, Mufti Day. You know, where you dress up, and don't do work and have fun and stuff?" "We still have to do work, Mum. Just because were not wearing uniform doesn't mean we don't have to work." That explained why I couldn't remember the date, at least. According to the timetable, today was my worst day in two weeks. At school we often joked that the timetable was a personal oracle, predicting whether or not your day would be worth living. Today I had the four worst subjects in the world, according to me, at least. Maths, Science, Geography and Woodwork, all somehow number related, were the bane of my existence, and the fact that I would be enduring them in street clothes lessened the impact only slightly in proportion. It also happened that test period was still not over, and my distraction by Moon Children hadn't helped my study.

"Do you remember what you have to wear?" Mum asked, with laughter in her voice. I looked up, immediately wary of her tone. There was a storm coming. "What? Mum, what is it?" I was panicking now. "Its . . . you have to wear. . . PINK!" She immediately burst into fit of giggles. My mum was the outgoing, energetic type ordinarily, but now she was acting like a four year old. I was furious at her. "Why didn't you just tell me that, instead of leaving me to repress it until I forgot and then telling me again? Why would they make us wear pink? And you _know_ I don't have anything pink at all!" All she could do was laugh for a minute, she composed herself. "Ok, ok, fun time over." Mum said, 'Now I'll explain. The reason I didn't remind you of it was that I wanted to see how well you would remember the date, seeing as I won't be here to remind you when you get older. The reason you have to wear pink is that you're donating to breast cancer, and that's a very good cause, and finally, you do have pink clothes, they're on your bed." She smirked at me imperiously, having executed her final move and knowing that there was no way out of the fate that was about to befall me. I just glared and finished my eggs in silence, except for the muffled laughter coming from Mum's end of the table.

I got to school on time, and fully decked out in pink from head to toe. As it turned out, I had a bunch of barely fitting pink shirts from way back when I was much more tolerant of the colour. Now, however, it was making me sick just looking at what I had to wear, and the fact that everyone at school had to endure the same humiliation was barely consoling. When I got to the school my friends were waiting for me, same as ever. Hugs were exchanged, and comments about the hideous pink repertoire we all had to wear, (only Alexa was fully appreciative of it), we chopped some wood for a chair in woodwork and before I knew it, it was first period recess before I got to even show my friends a glimpse of the book I was so desperate to let somebody, anybody, see. The group met at a particular tree they fancied, far in the corner of the playground away from other popular people, who's school lives were seething with complex 'friendships' and fights and back-stabbings. We weren't like that, and I myself wanted nothing to do with it, and I was pretty sure no one else did either. So we were sitting on this horizontal tree, chatting about tests and boys and things, when I suddenly remembered the book. I pulled it out of my bag, and held it above my head with a solemn reverence.

"Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ea" – "ok, ok, enough Shakespeare, we had enough of that in English yesterday, thank you very much" Cass interrupted, shouting over my loud Julius Caesar rendition. "I didn't mind it..." I muttered, slightly miffed at this blatant dissention to my favourite subject. "Get on with it!" Sara and Katherine chorused, and get on with it I did. I lowered Moon Children to eye level, to gasps of wonderment when I turned to the title page. They just stared for a while, just as I had, until I resolutely shut the cover on them. They jerked back into reality with nods of their heads, and after a silence, Alexa finally spoke.

"That's really cool! And the pictures, doesn't it look like their moving?" That broke the silence. The clearing where we were sitting suddenly erupted into a stream of voices, babbling at full speed, enthusing about all aspects of the book, the leather, the brass, the ink and the magic that it holds over you was all broken down into fine analysis. Only one of us hadn't said anything yet. Jade was eyeing the book warily, suspicion clouding her dark eyes. "I, I don't know about that book ... I don't trust it. No normal book should hold your will like that. We're dealing with something seriously abnormal here. It doesn't fit." She kept scrutinising it, although waiting for it to burst into flames or something. "Well, we don't exactly fit, but look at us!" I reasoned. "Yeah, something that pretty can't be too bad, can it?" Sara agreed. "That's just what it wants us to think." Jade said darkly. Katherine was starting to look worried. "Hey, now it has a personality?" Cass was looking at us like we were all mad. "I think we all need a reality check, people. _It's a book._ It doesn't have an evil vendetta against us all, and it's not conspiring to take our free will. So get a grip, ok?" That grounded us, but still didn't wipe the distrust from our faces. "Let's have a closer look at it. That'll wipe the evil looks from your faces." Cass was on a mission now, to prove to us all wrong about this mysterious book called Moon Children. I was the only one to know that she would lose, but I let her find that out for herself.

As Cass searched the blank pages for anything incriminating, or otherwise, I told the others the whole story of Moon Children, Mrs Bennet and the mysterious symbol that was now around my neck. When we got to that part of the story, it only seemed to cement in all our minds, (except Cass, who was only half-listening) that Moon Children, now affectionately named MC, was something special. When I brought it out there were again gasps of astonishment, and at that point Cass finally looked up, having found no evidence of any normality in MC. "Well, this is officially crazy," she observed, "so I'm going to give up." There were exaggerated intakes of breath, and gasps of "No! Really?" with layers of sarcasm dripping all over the place. "All right, you win, happy?" "Yes!" we all cried. "Now that it's done, where did this famed symbol go again?" Cass was genuinely curious now, and got her face dangerously close to the rather explosive cover, where the symbol should have been.

She put her eye really close to the hole, and then poked her finger inside, waggling it about. A memory sparked in my brain, bridging synapses at a mile - a - minute. A flash back of me, lying in my carpet, sticking my finger into the hole where the symbol was ... "Wait!" I called, "Stop, MC might...oh." It was too late to save Cassandra. Just like what had happened in my room on the weekend, though I could hardly believe it, another cream and black blur shot out of the cover and hit Cass right smack-dab in the middle of her forehead. "Ow! That hurt!"She exclaimed, holding her hand to her head and effectively imprinting a tattoo of whatever was on the round side of her necklace onto her head. Realising what she was doing, she took her hand away, revealing a serrated lightning bolt, indented on her brow for all to see, Harry-Potter style.

"Hey, it's the Boy Who Lived!" Sara crowed, taking Cass's role of joker and inserting her usual optimism, and, and voila: everyone was laughing. "You're a wizard, Harry..." We quoted, in husky Hagrid voices, then, in high pitched Voldemort voices, "You're a fool, Harry Potter, and you will lose ... everything ..." "Yeah, I get the point, very funny... " Cass sighed dejectedly, putting on a martyred face. "Now what is this?"

It was a necklace exactly the same as mine in every way, except that her symbol was a double edged bolt of lightning, and on the back was the word 'Kai'. "Hey, doesn't that mean strong, or noble in Japanese?" Katherine asked.

We were studying it at that point in the year. "Yeah, it does..." Sara pondered this, and then said what we were all thinking. "Why does an old book have this stuff in it anyway? And, do you reckon the rest of us get a necklace too? I won't say I'm an expert, but if two random people stick their fingers into the cover and get an old world item of jewellery, then why shouldn't other people get one too?" She shrugged matter-of-factly. "Might as well give it a try", I offered. I didn't have anything to lose, did I? And it would be great if the others got a cool trinket too. "Well, go on!" Cass urged. This was going to be interesting...


	6. Some Notice

**Some Notice:  
Yeah, as you can see I've been away for a while, and have been unable to write – schools getting hard with assignments, homework, tests, you name it. I will be writing soon, and I am grateful to all of your reviews so far, but if I don't get reviews than I can't take the time to write, so feel free to review with ideas, criticism and anything else.  
Please take the time out of your day to review, so I can take the time out of mine.  
~ Ankle Deep  
**


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